Untitled
by fictitiousburn
Summary: Oh, I'm all ready honoured, she said, smiling, I never thought I was easy to figure out anyway. I like me that way. He frowned inwardly. I'll have you figured out soon enough my dear. Even if it's the last thing I do. I swear I'll have you figured out (Adrian/Ginny)


**untitled**, an open-ended bitter romance

Desperation made her end up at his door again. She had actually never left him; it was like she had sewed her heart into his welcome mat and every different girl that walked inside stepped on it. She had forgotten what happiness consisted. It was as though happiness was something you were either born with or without. She had not been born with it, but surrounded by people who constantly filled her with an air of faux-happiness. It had taken him, and only him, to show her what she didn't have. For this she hated him. Hated him to the point that she loved him. Loved him to the point that she hated him. It was never a constant thing. It was like a seesaw. He could do something dramatic to make her hate him or something pleasant to make her love him again. That was just how easily he could manipulate her feelings and she hated that and loved him for it all at once. It hurt.

"We haven't seen each other in a while love. I'm starting to think you're avoiding me."

She laughed. It was still humourful, still happy. "Avoiding you? You'd know. I thought you'd figure I'd be more creative and productive about whom I hide from." She could never hide herself from him. He read her like a children's book.

He flashed a toothy smile at her. "My conceptions of you aren't always accurate. That's not something I easily admit. So consider yourself lucky enough to hear me say such a thing."

"Oh, I'm all ready honoured," she said, smiling, "I never thought I was easy to figure out anyway. I like me that way."

He frowned inwardly. "I'll have you figured out soon enough my dear. Even if it's the last thing I do. I swear I'll have you figured out."

She inclined her head slightly. "I'm complicated. I think too fast, move on too quick, and forget like this," she snapped her finger, "so, I change. A lot." She wanted to tell him why, that it was his fault. He had changed her view on happiness and she would never see it the same again. Everything was fake to her now. Even him.

He neared her ever so slightly. It was just enough so that their hands brushed against each other a little. He looked deep into her eyes as though he was searching for something. She had something he wanted and he would do anything to get it. When he moved, she could have closed her eyes and known he was moving. She felt it about him. It was when he looked at her like this that she longed to feel real to someone. To anyone. Even to him, after what he had done. After how much he had exposed, she was still willing to have him. It hurt her morales and her emotions at once, just to satisfy the ache in her stomach from watching him and not being there.

"Why me?" She asked him. Upon hearing her question he cupped her face gently.

"Because you are one of a kind," he told her simply. He brushed his lips against her, but quickly pulled away when he heard footsteps. Someone was coming their way and they would need to part ways soon.

Her chest swoll at his words and all she wanted to do was stand there and have him hold her. It was as close to real as she was ever going to get, especially from him, but she ducked her head, before turning to look towards who was coming towards them. She couldn't help but want to ignore that and stand there forever. But she didn't have forever to live, much less waste on fake love.

He scanned the area quickly. The footsteps were getting louder and louder. They were in his head now. He felt as though he head would explode if he didn't do something quick. He grabbed her by the wrist, not caring to be gently, and yanked her into a nearby empty classroom.

His strength had caught her off guard. She half-expected him to have them part ways, but she felt the rush of air as he tugged her and couldn't help but think it was purposefully that she landed against him, her hands against his heavy breathing chest and she glanced up at him, his arms around her. Couldn't help thinking that the door shut behind them all out of fate and purpose. She wasn't sure whether he would allow her to go, but she gently pushed her hands against him, ignoring what she physically felt, to let him know that she could stand on her own now. She thought it was ironic, she could never stand before.

He glanced down at her. A look of concern on his face. This quickly faded once he noticed a bit of defiance in her eyes. This look made him smirk at her. She had never given him this look before. He didn't know she was capable of giving such a look. His hold on her tightened and he pushed her against a nearby wall, pinning her there. As soon as he did that the footsteps faded.

Her emotions were inside a blender. She could feel anger and contempt, but passion and another bubbling feeling inside of her when his concerned face became a smirking one. She wished he would stop fooling her. She half expected it, but still had that naive hope that he wouldn't. When her back hit the wall, she snapped her head up to look at him, a simmered form of malice in her eyes. "What are you doing?" It came out as confidently as she had wanted. It would have ruined her look if it had come out in a raspy whisper, which she was sure it was damn close to when it formed in her throat. She could feel his breathing and it made her feel erotic.

So many thoughts were going through his head. Should he take her like he always wanted? Or should he leave her alone? He searched her eyes once more hoping for the answer, but they didn't hold anything but mixed emotions. He gave her this look that obviously said, I know what you want. Don't deny it. I'm just the person to give you that and I will. He put his own confidence against hers. Soon his confidence turned into conceit and he found himself saying, "What you've always wanted me to do to you."

If there had ever been a wrong moment in her life, that would have been it. Every fiber of morality inside of her screamed bloody murder, her malice was no longer contained into her eyes. How dare he say that to her? How could he still say that to her? The mere thought of the answer to that question made her angrier than his comment did. It fueled a chain reaction and the last thing to respond to it would be her heart. She pushed against him rebelliously. "You don't know me. You don't even care about me. I don't matter anything to you, I'm just another stupid pawn to you. Well, you know what? You won't use me. Not again."

His cheeks blushed a tinge of red. This was due to his anger, but he appeared to be blushing. He hated how she seemed to control his emotions every once in a while. She obviously didn't know this because he wouldn't let her know this. He was too damn proud to give up any control. Or at least he believed this to be so. Her words were a slap to his face. They stung with as much pain as anything ever had. Maybe even more. The guilt he was feeling for saying such an awful thing passed through him, but he supressed it. He released her. "Think whatever you want," he sneered.

She whipped around to face him, her face also slightly flushed. "I don't have to think it, I know that! You damnit know that too! You know what kind of hold you had on me. You used it. I'd even go as far as to say that you would entertain yourself with it and I wouldn't be surprised if you did. Well, I wasn't entertained. At all." She almost said, "you ruined my life," but she was glad she didn't. That would just make her feel weak. She couldn't feel weak, much less allow him to make her feel weak. He had all ready played with her emotions enough.

"I would like to prove you wrong," he replied seriously. He didn't look at her when he said it. He didn't have to. His words held all the weight he wanted to convey. It was up to her whether or not she wanted to believe him.

She looked at him with conviction. Her voice was surprisingly soft and fair compared to the anger she had just felt. "You always liked proving me wrong."

He didn't smile. He didn't have to. The smile was noticable in his eyes. Her words had somehow redeemed him and made him feel better. He glanced at her figure and couldn't hold back his urge anymore. He advanced on her and pinned her against the wall once more. His mouth immediately went for her neck and his hands caressed her back. He made noises he had never allowed himself to make before.

His sudden change in attack confused her momentarily, long enough to fill the space between him standing there and then having his hands on her back and carressing her. The incline had been so steep that she had almost gave up right then and there. It filled her with unbelievable rush and she hated it. She knew she hated it. But she couldn't hate it now. Not when she wanted it. Especially not when she wanted him as badly as she did. His lips against her neck was her breaking point and she was grateful that he was bracing her, or she would have collapsed to the floor. It was almost as if he had shut down every nerve ending in her body and the only way she would get them back was for him to-she didn't want to go that far into it now. She just let herself go and did what she felt. She had never made a decision to try that, because it made her feel weak and vulnerable. What changed that now? She didn't know.

He stopped kissing her for a minute and admired her. "I don't think I can do this," he told her. His hands pushed off her school robes. Next they were unbuttoning her shirt underneath and loosening the tie they all had to wear. Once she was exposing her bra to him he traced his hands along her breasts. "I don't think I could taint you like this and not feel bad about it." His hands were now caressing her back again because it was his thing. It was the move he was known for. The caress turned into something more and soon the bra was falling off her arms.

She bowed her head for a moment, her hair falling over her shoulder. She wanted to tell him that she didn't care. Her mood had escalated so high as to where she no longer cared about how she felt. About how he was using her and how she didn't want him to. She wanted him to take her right against the wall and leave her like he always did. It was like coming down off of a stimulant. She felt lethargic in thought and just wanted to be able to make the right decision. She didn't want to regret what she would say to him for the rest of her life. And it struck her exactly what to say. Then, she would know how he felt. Then, she would know if he would see her again. She didn't know what stopped her, but something did. "Then don't."

He nodded his head in agreement and stopped what he was doing. He backed away from her and helped her put the articles of clothing he had displaced back on body. Once she looked like she did before he smiled and said, "Maybe another time. Another place. When we aren't out to control each other. When you actually care about each other and not just the fleeting moment of sex."

She kept herself calm, no matter how much she wanted to burst. She wished that it didn't have to end here, or end now. There were too many different things out there for her to get caught up with, but she would never forget him. Not again, not after this. She could no longer hold in her protest and spoke softly, glancing at her school shoes. "I always cared about you. I could never control you. I can't control love."

"I've always cared about you too. It's just complicated. It's complicated because we are different. It's complicated because I'm used to hurting people. I'm used to torturing those I care about and putting my own needs above everyone else's. It's the thing that drives me. It makes me who I am," he told her.

"I know how you work," she told him quietly, to not be standoffish, "it's similar to my mindset. I think ahead, though. I have to know what I'm doing before I do it. I can't stand not knowing. Especially about other people. We're complicated. We wouldn't fit together. We're not supposed to. I'm audacious and flirtatious and it doesn't work well with what you want. But I don't care. I know I don't. It's your decision." Because she could really not care anymore. After all she had just given up, letting him decide to see her was hardly a step in her direction. She had just lost her morales, her conduct, her soul fire for all of this. All that he had shown her created doors where she would hardly find her way out. She was still locked in. But she was okay with that.

"You know. I never thought it would come to this. I never thought I would be given this kind of choice in life. I'm not complaining. I'm actually proud of the fact I finally know what love feels like and I'd like to keep this feeling for as long as possible. I think you'd be making a mistake being with me. You don't know what I've done and what I will do in the future. You can't trust me. As long as my name is Adrian Michael Pucey I can't be trusted. I love you, but not enough to bring you down with me," he told her.

She hated how his simple distrust in himself made her want to stay rooted to the floor. She hated how he could think that she had never done anything that she regreted in her life. She hated how everyone thought she was okay when she smiled and and sad when she cried. She didn't worked that way. She was much too difficult.

"It doesn't matter if I can't trust you. It doesn't matter if you think I'm making a mistake. Hell, I don't care if you aren't trustworthy. I love you. There's no difference between my feelings and my trust. I'll trust you as long as I love you. And in whatever you do, you'll bring me down with you anyway. I know I'm not making a mistake. We're complicated, Adrian. We always will be. It's not okay, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters."

She knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear. She didn't care. She sat herself atop one of the desks and let him walk away from her. She always let him walk away. She had nothing else to hold on to. Their love wasn't stable, they weren't stable, she trusted him but he didn't want her to. She hated that he would use her and then hated that she would let him. They would always be different. She was a different person. She wasn't allowed to show her weakness. She had been told too many times that it would be exploited. But she didn't care. She never cared. Why? Because she loved Adrian. Ginny had always loved Adrian.


End file.
